Hurry Before It's Too Late
by sweetsunshine000
Summary: Alan and Charissa have been each other's only friend for a while, but after some time, Alan's dependence on Chris has diminished.She still needs him, however, and she wants him to know that.But with Alan leaving for Camp Greenlake, will she be too late?


**Author's Note: This is my first story so I'm sorry if it sucks, but I hope you enjoy it anyways. It's dramatic, but who cares? I like it. Read and Review.**

**HURRY BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE**

I couldn't believe it. Alan was leaving. He was my best friend. He was my only friend. We've both had our problems, and he would always give me a shoulder to cry on. I would try to do the same for him, but he wouldn't need it as much as I did though. Alan would always put on a tough face and pretend it didn't bother him, but when it got to a point where it was too much for him to handle, I was there. But lately, it seems like I need to be there less and less. His mother drinks, and sometimes she would beat him. On nights like these, he would sneak over to my house and sometimes spend the night there. He used to come to my house almost every night. Now he rarely ever does. He claims that his mother has stopped, but it's like every time I see him, there's a new bruise on his arm. I would ask him about it, but he would tell me that it was none of my business and not to worry about him. The thing is…I do worry. He's my best friend. How could I not? And it was only obvious that such a friendship could eventually have me falling for him. I remember when we both relied on each other. Even now, I still rely on him. I still need him. However, I don't know if the same can be said for him.

"_You're what? I asked, not believing him the first time._

"_I'm leaving." Alan said softly, his face emotionless._

"_Exactly where are you going?"_

"_Does it matter? It's better than here."_

_I looked at him, confused. Was it just me, or did he seem…happy?_

"_So you wanna leave?"_

"_Chris, are you kidding me? My life was a living hell. I have no one here."_

_I faked a small smile, praying to God Alan didn't see how truly upset I was._

"_That's…nice to know."_

_I couldn't help but feel a little disconcerted. He was the only thing in this place that kept me sane, and I felt like I meant nothing to him. If Alan was even the tiniest bit distressed about leaving me here, he didn't show it. He seemed rather unfazed by the situation, and all I was doing was humiliating myself by needing someone who didn't need me back. I didn't want to be like this in front of him, weak and pathetic, so I walked away. I didn't bother looking back, but I could imagine the scene, Alan standing there with his mouth gaped open in shock. As I walked the narrow streets home, I wiped the tears hanging off the corner of my eyes. Was I crying? I kicked the pebbles in front of me. I hated this. I didn't want my emotions to get the best of me. It was times like these that I wished I was more like Alan, indifferent and tough. It was then that I decided that if Alan didn't care, then neither did I. I was going to forget about Alan. I was going to put him behind me._

I paced the small area of my bedroom in order to occupy myself. Alan would be leaving soon, but I didn't want to give the satisfaction of actually being there when he left. Releasing my frustration, I kicked the wall…hard. Damn, that hurt. I felt so angry. Who was I angry at? I had no idea. Alan? No, it wasn't Alan. It was me. I was at angry at myself. Let's face it. I'm not tough. As of right now, I'm probably the farthest thing from it. I should have done something different: tell him off for his idiocy, get all weepy and confess my undying love for him, _something_ instead of just walking away. I mean, who am I kidding? I still loved him, though I really hate to admit it. And whether the feeling is returned or not, he's my best friend. I couldn't just let him go. I had to find him. Despite everything, I had to talk to him. 

I was in a sprint towards Alan's house. Every pounding footstep echoing in my ear mocked me along the way. _You're not running fast enough. Run faster, or it'll be too late. _My sides started to ache, but I pushed myself through the pain. At that moment, the blurred image of the bus whirred past me. My reaction time wasn't quick enough, and it took me a while before realization had me running back after the bus.

"Alan!" I yelled.

He couldn't hear me. I tried yelling again, but I couldn't gather the energy to. All that came out were deep pants. My pace started to slow. No matter how hard I pushed, this was as far as I could go. I collapsed on the sidewalk, watching the bus drive away.

_Too late. Too late. _

I could hear the imaginary voice taunting me as I pounded the sidewalk. I was on the ground, unable to move from the soreness of my body.

_Too late._

When I was finally able to start walking again, I didn't go back home. I went to Alan's house, hearing my feet drag along the way. I looked at the small, worn house. Despite our close friendship, I've never actually been inside before. And yet, I hated this place. I hated every fiber of its existence with a passion. From its dreary exterior to the mere detail that every curtain in the house was closed. All of it I hated. What I hated most was the feeling I got when I looked at it. It was probably like a prison in there. I couldn't imagine what must have gone on within these walls, and I didn't want to. And now that Alan was gone, I had another reason to hate place.

_Too late. Too late._


End file.
